Spring is coming to the San Lorenzo Valley, heralded first by daffodils and fruit trees--first the flowering plums, and then the rest, white blossoms just beginning to show, bridal colors that seem to have appeared overnight.
Six months ago, in September 2006 summer was still hanging on, though autumn was beginning to make itself known with colder nights and a certain golden aura in the afternoon light. In this month, a woman named Asha Veil died, along with her unborn daughter, Anina. They were left like trash by the side of Love Creek Road, a street that goes back and back into the redwoods, bounded on all sides by still-visible evidence of a two-decades-old landslide. There were no answers at the time to the mystery of her tragic death. Her baby would have been a few months old right now, eyes open to this budding, blue-sky spring. Perhaps her mother would have started telling Anina all the names for everything around them, showing her the new spring flowers. Instead...well, everyone knows what the terrible "instead" is. I don't need to recap it further here.
This week, the Valley Press has brought up the case again. It is somewhat hard to read the article in the way it's set up--click on the link to get the article in PDF form (you have to have Adobe Reader or a program that can read .pdf files to see this). It's a bit of a pain; please email me if you can't access the article and I'll see if I can get it to you another way.
People who are not privy to the workings of the criminal investigation are no closer to knowing who killed Asha Veil than we were the night she was found. The article states that "investigators have been unusually secretive. They've disclosed nothing about how Veil was killed, what physical evidence they have, what interviews have been conducted, and whether investigators know who fathered Veil's unborn daughter."
Phil Wowak, one of the primary investigators, says he "can hardly wait for the day we can make an announcement"--I assume about a suspect or a break in the case--and that "no one has been ruled out" as a suspect. He said that one real problem in moving this case forward has been a backlog at the state forensics lab, where evidence in the Asha Veil case was sent. The article goes on to discuss details of the Michael McClish case, in which McClish, Asha's coworker, was arrested on rape charges; his trial begins in April, if there are no further delays. As yet, the McClish and Veil cases remain unrelated, according to the criminal investigation.
So, we wait. I have a feeling--just an intuitive one--that we will know much more in the next few months. The part which really saddens me is that the suspect is out there, somewhere. This person knows who they are; they know they have an innocent woman's blood on their hands. They know Asha's baby will never see this beautiful, tremulous spring, these warm days just beginning to open, like a blossom of light. I doubt Asha's killer reads this blog, but if they just happen to do so--if they troll the Internet, hoping she's on the verge of vanishing from memory, please know that Asha is still very much on the minds of people who knew and loved her, and of everyone affected by this case. And, just in case you have some opportunity to read my words, I have a thought: why not lay down the burden of this terrible secret you carry and tell the investigators now what you've done? The knowledge of your actions must torment you, night and day. Maybe a nightmare wakes you, an image of what you've done rising out of the dark tide of restless sleep. You must feel how the circle is tightening around you, a little more every day You know you'll be found out, and soon. You've had six months of anonymity, but this isn't going to last, and you know it. The words are on your lips anyway, all the time. They have to be. Speak, and let this anguish rest, for everyone.
That's all I have to say tonight. I will be continuing to cover this case, and the McClish case, until there is resolution for both. And I will continue to remember the two precious human beings at the very heart of this story, Asha and Anina, their voices and all their future tragically stilled six months ago.
